

Opening Door Series 


B2259 


*7 '.. . 


FT MERDE 
GenCol 1 


‘Dan£s 






Bnnk ^ ^ q 


Copight}s'?_r£. 


COPaaCHT DEPOSIT. 


-or 




/ 




I ■< ' 


» . 


fSi^'''''‘7''-;‘’''''''VV;‘'V^*’» /i77:')v''v^: 'TVi-;:' *■''': .\\ ■''••'■ .'V;i,V- 


» . • i\ 

\ 


> ,^v ; •'■ 


;i ■/?.'■' ■', r' 


‘- '-o; '.V-' ^ 

I yr . ' \ 


• . ‘ ‘ I ’>' • 'h'.' . 


'V:;.. 


; '. * • !• ^ vV . • ,. I . 

I 'r 'V . ■ '■ • •• I I ' ' ''1 ‘,‘ 

.i" • ' 

. ' -‘•.•r • '• •,'■ \ .' ■ ■ ‘ • 




-V, 






. s^ -- 


i 


\ . 


. ! ■ 


- » ■■ . ' ■., ■■ . I. ■ ■ 

■ <,-■ ,i . 

s’ ' . '■ ■ ■■ . •■ i ■ . ■ 


n'-. . 


-1 ' '■'► ^ I . ' • ' \ 

V V. \ •■ ^ 

■ ..■■•, •■>■■■ ■' ■ 

■ • f --I , 'I ■' 

> ■ . . . ' . >i. ■•■..''>■ . , ■' 


:t 


, > 


U‘| r 


. ' ■ I ■■• ■> 

rK'.- 


' 



:• .V 


: f 

' t 


, ' ^ i 

\ * 




■ < ' . 


W ' „ . I ' ' 


' y ' ^ j 

■ ‘A'-. ■ , . 


;vy 1 


• I 

.f 






1' . *,'• 


. . , ... , 


*'v '■* ■ 

y.- ■ 

t’l 


■*- I . 


' ■ . V . . 

' , . 
\:7'v 


■ '■-■ ' j'-' * '> ■,. , ■ 

‘ 7 • VJ 


t 

'.V ■. 


\ . 

^ i 

V 


t 


f . 

- 


■ r 

■' 

■I'. , ' 

' 7 ' " 

',' ■■ /'i' . 




i < .*. 


- k ■! 






'A 


' \ 

f. 

.'i' 


\t 

rt'- 




t 


. 1 
\ 




I •) ■ 

i' ; • 


, >• 
,1 ' 


y 


■ ■»■ 


f- 

t 


. T' ■■' 
•■■■'! . ■ 


.. 1 

■> ■' 


N' 


.r 








. ' ■ ■ I ■ ■ ■ ■. , 

■'S'- . ■. 

f -v. 




t ' 


. S 




f I . 




. f.>'' 7 y^vV'-’. ^ ' 

'.T ' ' ’V': !'i, i rlU'.i' ■ , *> . '■ ; 


: \. 




t :• • 


,' I , 


. ,y 




•'lls .• I , . ^ ,» t 


l,c 


'■ ••) h\ \'' i ’ 


i.' ■•' 


>. 

•f', ' ... ' . .. •v.’i-- ' - 

■ I;-'. ■, 1 , ' ■ 




.... : 




r 


■ '■H . i',. I'j ' '■ 

; / •• y .c • , ' ' 

T'. ■, ' * : A ..- 


^ ' 


1 ' '' ■rM':.'- ' '■' 


.‘O'/ : 


’ I 


• 'i 1 i • 1 ^' ■ . 

» > ' ■ r r ■ I ■'•. i 5 •. ■ , '. ■ 


■f 


vfV; 




' i ■ ' ■ *jPpl ''’I ■ ■ ■ ..y.' ■ ' • ' , • ■ 

-i f r'v ■ ■' y. ’ 

r:- ■■ >'.,c>pyj<fpr:y-f :\r\ y.--\ 


t * ' . *• 


■y 






‘A 


I ) • f »' 

• .' 





f 


i 4 . ' 


:t l ^ 


[■s': 


. ♦' 
'f'' 


1^., 


•Vs 


■'< I 


^,, I-.- 


v' f 


I 


' t 




,4 


. I 

' f 


./ '• , ' 


■• V stA- ,■ ■ ■ . A'-. , . .. . t.. ■ i' I- ■ . 


. . 1 




s 'i , . 
I .r I > 





> , t . 




’ y,- 'r* • .■ 


■' J' .,■ 


. , 


.■ 1 




, , '1 

' » 

t . 




I . . , ■ ' ■ ,■■ ..... S . . . ., ,. . I . , ' ., .PI ■ V I 

, ■ ' . v'- ' t i , 1 -. . I, i ,r ', I ' 

■; .K f‘ ' < i .-'.C, ‘T ' . *'”■ ' .' 

-y; ■ 1^. ' y-: .'. ‘ / 7'- .:7-.7 ’.‘■y'.'y; 7- ' 


i ■ 

I . 


,>.J - .M. ,■ 

, I . I I ^ ' . 

■ ■'.' r ■'.* ii 

. . It' • y 




' , '• ' 

' vV' 


'• » 


r , 

I . 


.V'7. 
.< 


’• V 


'-.A 


>\ ■ 


THE OPEJTIHG DOOR SERIES 


POLLY’S GARDEN 



THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS 
ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN & CO., Limited 

LONDON • BOMBAY • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Lm 

TORONTO 




Frontispiece 

It was a beautiful sign when it was finished. 


POLLY’S GARDEN 


BY 

HELEN WARD BANKS 

H 


ILLUSTRATED BY WILLY POGANY 


]Sr£fn gorft 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
1918 

jiJl rights reserved 



Copyright, 1918, 

By the MACMILLAN COMPANY. 

Set up and electrotyped. Published April, 1918. 


‘ . 
O ( i 


APR IS 


13(8 


Norinaol) 

J. S. Cushing Co. — Berwick <fc Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 


©CI.A494B53 


•Vv^ \ 


Co 

MARY HAGEDORN 


PREFACE 


There was once a little girl who lived in a 
garden where there were flowers and grass and 
a swing. A green gate shut it in from the 
street. The child looked out through the 
green gate, but she never wanted to go through 
it, for she lived in the garden of Paradise and 
played with Happiness. When she grew older, 
she opened the green door and went out upon 
the long, straight road. She dreamed about the 
garden after that ; but she never went back to it. 

One day, as she walked, she saw a dingy gray 
smithy standing by the dusty brown road, and 
on it the name ‘‘ Rosevale.” With the eyes in 
her head she could not see any roses, but sud- 
denly, with the eyes of her soul, she saw a 
green garden gate, and inside it Happiness, 
smiling and frisking. As Happiness pushed 
open the gate and went into the garden, Polly 
skipped in ahead and began planting roses. 

Then, not content to be alone in her garden, 


Preface 


viii 

Polly stretched one hand to Happiness and one 
to Love, and together they ran to set open once 
more the garden gate, so that Polly’s father and 
mother, Sam and Sandy with their mothers, the 
Painting Man, Miss Smith, and even cross Mr. 
Huggins could come in. And when the girl, 
now grown, watched them all together, she 
knew just how glad little Polly felt, for she too 
had been a child in a garden. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 


I. 

Sandy Plans It . . . 

. I 

II. 

Mr. Martin Changes a Name 

. lO 

III. 

Polly Digs a Rose 

• 19 

IV. 

Farmer Allen Lends a Horse 

. 29 

V. 

Mr. Greenwood Makes a Bed 

• 38 

VI. 

Mrs. Terry Takes a Walk . 

• 47 

VII. 

Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 

• 57 

VIII. 

Miss Smith Paints a Fence . 

. 68 

IX. 

Saunders Works a Miracle . 

. 78 

X. 

Mr. Huggins Keeps His Word 

. 88 


■W M..1 



M 1 








V'*’ 





■M 




; y f • . I • ' \ 

fi' '/■# 


T ^ r^\ V> /7 

8 L* • ' 






' 1 . - k I 





POLLY’S GARDEN 


CHAPTER I 

Sandy Plans It 

“Hello, Polly!” called Sandy 
McLeod. 

Polly’s brown eyes were bright as 
she looked up from her book and 
pushed back the brown curls that had 
tumbled over her shoulders. 

“Hello, Sandy!” she answered. 
“Come on over.” 

Sandy, trundling the baby in a go- 
cart, came across the dusty road, and 
sat down beside Polly on the porch of the 
little gray Greenwood house, that stood 
close beside the gray blacksmith shop. 

B I 


2 


Polly’s Garden 

Father Greenwood was in the shop 
making an iron shoe for Farmer Allen’s 
horse. The old gray horse stood 
nodding his head in a peaceful nap, 
while big Sam Terry blew the bellows 
to keep the fire bright, and Mr. Green- 
wood pounded the red-hot iron into a 
shoe to fit old Gray’s foot. 

« I’m glad the baby’s asleep,” Polly 
said, “ and I don’t have anything to 
do till it’s time to set the table. 
I’ve found a new one, Sandy, but it’s 
got an awful big name, Sal-pi-glos-sis ; 
do you think that would be pretty?” 

She looked at Sandy anxiously as 
he bent his red head over the flower 
catalogue. Polly loved that catalogue 
better than anything she had. She 
studied it every odd minute all day long, 
and took it to bed with her at night. 


3 


Sandy Plans It 

“ It costs ten cents, Polly ; it’s too 
dear,” Sandy answered, at last. 

Polly laughed out. “ But we’re just 
playing, Sandy. When you’re playing, 
you can pay a whole dollar for seeds 
if you want to.” 

« If we could only get twenty-five 
cents we could buy five packets of real 
seeds,” said Sandy. 

« But we haven’t got twenty-five 
cents, and nobody’d give us as much 
as that just to spend for flower seeds. 
We can’t have a real garden, but the 
play one is beau-ti-ful. I’ve added two 
new beds, Sandy.” 

“Where?” 

“ One each side of the path from 
the gate to the porch. I haven’t 
quite decided what’s in them. What 
would you have ? ” 


4 


Polly’s Garden 

“ There’s a man lives up on the 
Hill,” answered Sandy. “ I was there 
last year when I took home some 
sewing mother did. He’s named Mr. 
Martin and he calls his place High- 
acres. He paints pictures, and he’s 
got the finest garden I ever saw. 
Why don’t we have one like that ? ” 

Polly pushed back her curls again 
from her brown, flushed cheeks. « Tell 
me about it, Sandy,” she demanded. 
« I think Highacres is a lovely name ! 
I wish our places had names.” 

“ What names could we have ? ” 
scoffed Sandy. “ If we make it like 
Mr. Martin’s garden the path will 
come up straight just like it does now. 
See ? ” 

« It isn’t very straight,” sighed Polly. 

« Well, it would be then. The 


5 


Sandy Plans It 

whole dooryard each side of the path 
where it’s all scraggly grass now would 
be dug up and made into paths and 
queer-shaped beds with grass borders 
and all filled with the loveliest flowers. 
There’d be roses and hollyhocks and 
larkspur and phlox and foxgloves and 
zinnias and snap-dragon. I never saw 
such a place.” 

With her cheeks resting on her 
palms, Polly stared straight ahead. If 
she had looked at what really was there 
she would have seen a dingy dooryard 
with a sagging fence, and across the 
road a row of gray houses with more 
straggly dooryards and worse sagging 
fences. But those all faded away and 
she saw only a beautiful fairy garden 
filled with color and fragrance. 

“ Give me that blank paper out of 


6 


Polly’s Garden 

the catalogue and I’ll draw it out for 
you,” suggested Sandy. 

Polly straightened up and dimpled. 
« There isn’t any blank page any more. 
I wrote a pretend order on it. It cost 
ten dollars. I’ll get my school pad.” 

The McLeod baby still slept and 
Mrs. Greenwood still had no use for 
Polly, so she and Sandy worked on 
undisturbed. 

« The path up the middle makes 
the dooryard into two halves,” said 
Sandy. “ In each half let’s put a 
round bed in the middle with a grass 
border and a path running around it. 
Like this. See ? ” 

“Yes,” breathed Polly. 

« Then,” said Sandy, drawing on, 
“ from this path four paths run out, 
and there are four more beds around 


Sandy Plans It 7 

the middle bed. And there’s another 
path around that with four paths run- 
ning out, and a bed in each corner.” 

“ It looks like a wheel,” said Polly. 
“You ought to see it filled up with 
flowers, like Mr. Martin’s.” 

“ Wait till I get a big piece of 
paper,” cried Polly eagerly. “ Let’s 
draw it big, and then we can pick out 
all the best flowers in the catalogue and 
write them in. It’ll be lots of fun ! ” 
She brought the big brown sheet 
and Sandy drew and rubbed out and 
drew again, while Polly watched 
breathlessly, and Mr. Greenwood, in 
the forge, held Gray’s big foot against 
his leather apron and nailed the new 
shoe into place. He put in the last 
nail just as Sandy finished his second 
plan. And then the baby woke up. 


8 Polly’s Garden 

“ There ! ” Sandy said, giving Polly 
the paper. “ That’s almost like Mr. 
Martin’s garden. I’ve got to go.” 

Polly’s eyes were dancing with ex- 
citement. “ Oh, Sandy, it’s lovely ! 
Won’t we have fun writing the flowers 
in ! I’m going to make a list of all 
the colors.” 

“You must see how high they all 
grow,” warned Sandy, starting the go- 
cart, “ and put the little ones in front.” 

Farmer Allen came just then for his 
horse. Big Sam Terry helped him 
harness old Gray to the wagon and 
then strolled home. Mr. Greenwood 
came across to the house, and Mr. Allen 
climbed to his seat and gathered up 
the reins. 

“ Hello, Polly ! ” he called. “ Want 
to take a ride ? ” 


%% 




‘‘ Only twenty more,” coaxed Polly, 









- *7 3 L '- 

A 

.St 


’r. _> 

( •' ■* *^-lfc***T/ - 

*'3t- 1 ■ 

^ a ir .' js -ji *u. 

» 4 * * 

T • » 


'i- ' 

~ X . 


. ^ - 

x|BL_ 

S«# ■ i.tt- 


‘ >♦ 



*> 



/ > 



® •‘■' ■%# ' ' 

ii’*^ • 

41" 



r ... "f * w ^ ' iki-. ^ . r ^ 1. 

, f .••§ *V' " 

” • ^ ^ . 'La * ^ , 


- V. 


* - » 

* 


■.i' 


V. 


I < 





•: '':■ "5 ^ ■ 

' t' 

>, .• ' 


y . 





:• ’ < f 


Ar i. A j 


• <f ► 









» . » 








■* s- 


»> C-V<j ^ ii*? .. V*" - ^ ■ 

■It.- *: -- '"'c' -' 



•* .' ‘, * »-* • 'f"' 1^ ' 

U-1^ •’■^ “* ■ * ■*.,*’ 

?« >' • 


• • 

■ * • 

. ^ - ^r, I r ’ 

*. ♦aV **• 

" *.X V V% 

A •* J '"*j 
■ .^, .4:'^/^!^^/ ._.- . 

:__ • jl 6 -_. .M* ' 



•■ '..'>-43 

at.- ^ 


^ ■ • 



J^>ci 




iJ 


\ ;.- " S-- . t'l. ‘E^ / . • ’ ■ 









A 4 


t.'Si 


lAr^ 




9 


Sandy Plans It 

Polly smiled and shook her head. 
“ Not to-day, thank you, Mr. Allen; 
it’s most dinner-time.” 

“ Some other day, then. Old Gray’s 
a friend of yours. He’ll take you 
whenever you want to go.” 

Farmer Allen drove away, and Polly 
followed Sandy to the gate. 

« Look, Polly ! ” he said eagerly. 
« See who’s coming down the hill ! ” 


CHAPTER II 


Mr. Martin Changes a Name 

Polly looked at the gentleman who 
was riding a beautiful black horse down 
the rough road on the hill. 

“ It’s Mr. Martin,” whispered Sandy, 
and rushed away home with the baby. 

Polly stood still, and Mr. Martin 
stopped his horse before her. 

« Good morning,” he said, with a gay 
smile. “ Are you the blacksmith ? ” 

Polly laughed and shook her head. 
« No, sir. I’m Polly. Father’s the 
blacksmith. Would you like your 
horse shod ? ” 

“Very much,” said Mr. Martin. 


Mr. Martin Changes a Name 1 1 

“ He’s left a shoe somewhere on the 
road. Is your father busy ? ” 

« I’ll get him,” Polly said, and danced 
into the house. 

“ Mr. Martin wants his horse shod, 
father,” she called. 

Mr. Greenwood grunted. “Tell 
him I don’t work at dinner-time.” 

“ Oh, father, I can’t tell him that,” 
protested Polly. “ It won’t take long. 
He’s so nice, father, and he has a 
lovely garden. Please won’t you 
come ? ” 

“ Go on, if the child wants you to,” 
urged Mrs. Greenwood. “Dinner isn’t 
ready, anyway.” 

So Mr. Greenwood put down his 
pipe and went back to the shop. 
Polly waited to set the table, and then 
she followed him. 


12 


Polly’s Garden 

Mr. Martin was sitting on the sill of 
the open doorway of the shop, and he 
made room for Polly to sit beside him. 
They both looked at the row of gray 
houses across the dusty road. 

« It isn’t a very pretty view, is it ? ” 
sighed Polly. “ But I don’t see it very 
much.” 

« How do you help that ? ” 

Polly flushed and laughed. « Oh, I 
see pictures. Sandy does, too. When 
we look across here, we play the houses 
are white and the fences are straight, 
and everything has flowers. Then we 
forget about the ugly houses.” 

“ Is Sandy your brother ? ” asked 
Mr. Martin. 

« Oh, no, I haven’t any brothers or 
sisters ; Sandy has lots ; little ones ; he 
has to take care of them while his 


13 


Mr. Martin Changes a Name 

mother washes. He’s quite old; he’s 
eleven ; I’m only nine.” 

“ I see. And you think the houses 
aren’t very pretty to look at ? ” 

“ No, sir, I don’t. But,” she added, 
quickly, “ they have very nice people 
living in them. They’re not very rich, 
any of them, and I suppose they can’t 
help having ugly houses. Mrs. McLeod 
lives in the first, and she has five chil- 
dren and has to wash all the time to 
keep food in their mouths, and it takes 
all Sandy’s time out of school to mind 
the children. Sam’s mother, Mrs. 
Terry, lives next to the McLeod’s. 
Some people call him ‘ Shiftless Sam,’ 
but I don’t, because I like him ; he’s 
my friend, too, but he says work doesn’t 
agree with him very well, so he rests 
when he isn’t helping father. The 


1 4 Polly’s Garden 

next house is Miss Smith’s ; she’s nice, 
too, but she doesn’t laugh much, and 
she’s pretty thin. I don’t believe she 
could paint a house if she had the 
paint; she says she’s got more gump- 
tion than grit. And the last house is 
Mr. Huggins’. He lives all alone. 
He doesn’t care for pretty things. I’ve 
told him I’d like to have him for a 
friend, but he only grunts. But I 
guess he likes me some.” 

“You have a great many friends, 
haven’t you ? ” Mr. Martin said. “ May 
I be one, too ? ” 

“ I’d love to have you for a friend,” 
flushed little Polly. “ Am I good 
enough ? Our house is just as ugly 
as all the others. Mother’s tired all 
the time, and father likes to smoke 
when he isn’t working, so we don’t get 


Mr. Martin Changes a Name 15 

fixed up much. But Sandy and I pre- 
tend a lovely garden. We drew it all 
out this morning.” 

“We ought to be friends,” said Mr. 
Martin, gravely, “ for we are in the 
same business. I make pictures and 
paint them out on canvas and you 
make pictures and just keep them in 
your heart. I think yours must be 
more beautiful than mine, for yours 
always go the way you want them 
to.” 

“Yes,” nodded Polly. “That’s the 
good of pretending. But it would be 
nice to have your pretends come real. 
It must be lovely to paint real pictures. 
I never saw any one paint.” 

Mr. Martin smiled and reached 
over for a pot of green paint in the 


corner. 


1 6 Polly’s Garden 

“ May I have some of this paint, 
Mr. Greenwood,” he called, “and this 
white board ? ” 

Mr. Greenwood nodded. 

“ I haven’t time for a picture,” Mr. 
Martin said, “ for Romeo’s shoe is al- 
most fitted, but I’ll paint the name of 
the place, if you’ll tell me what it is, 
and we’ll nail it up on the peak of 
the shop. What is the name of the 
place ? ” 

Polly’s head drooped. “ Poortown,” 
she answered under her breath. 

Mr. Martin laughed out. “ Now, 
what a name for any spot on this beau- 
tiful green earth ! We certainly won’t 
paint that. Let’s name it over again. 
What is your favorite flower ? ” 

“ Roses,” answered Polly, without 
hesitation. 


Mr. Martin Changes a Name 17 

“ Then how would Rosevale do ? 
That means a whole valley of roses.” 

“ Oh, it’s lovely ! ” breathed Polly. 

She watched eagerly while the green 
letters grew into « Rosevale ” on the 
white board. It was a beautiful sign 
when it was finished. 

« Will it do ? ” he asked. 

Polly laughed with delight. 

“ Then get me a hammer and half a 
dozen nails, and I’ll fasten it up, if 
your father is willing.” 

Mr. Greenwood grunted again, and 
Mr. Martin nailed the sign firmly above 
the blacksmith-shop door. Then Ro- 
meo was shod, and Mr. Martin rode 
away, smiling. 

Mr. Greenwood went back to the 
house, and Polly was left gazing at the 
new sign. 


1 8 Polly’s Garden 

« Rosevale ! ” she whispered. « It’s 
a beautiful name. I’ll never have to 
say Poortown again.” 

Then she faced slowly around and 
her eyes swept the untidy line of 
houses opposite, beginning with Mrs. 
McLeod’s and ending with Mr. Hug- 
gins’. 

“ Rosevale ! ” she repeated. “ And 
there isn’t one rose in it ! ” 


CHAPTER III 
Polly Digs a Rose 

Then suddenly the smiles came back 
on Polly’s face where they belonged. 

“ There will be,” she said. “ It’s 
Saturday. I’ll go to Bray’s Swamp this 
very afternoon and dig up lots and lots 
of wild roses and plant them in our 
yard. There’s got to be roses if it’s 
Rosevale.” 

She went in to dinner and helped 
her mother wash the dishes afterwards. 
Then she ran to find Sandy. 

Poor Sandy was not so care-free. 
Mrs. McLeod must go to town to buy 
the week’s supplies, and Sandy must 
watch the house and the children. 


19 


20 


Polly’s Garden 

He went with Polly to see the new 
sign, but he could not go to Bray’s 
Swamp. 

“ I’ll go alone, then,” decided Polly. 
« It won’t be so much fun, though, and 
I can’t dig so many roses. But now 
we’re in Rosevale, I’ve got to have 
some. Have you a trowel, Sandy ? ” 

“ Nary a trowel,” answered Sandy. 
“ Maybe Mrs. Terry has, or Miss Smith. 
Now, Jamie, quit that; you can’t fight 
with Angus.” 

“ He hit me first,” wailed Jamie. 

“ They’re all for fighting the day,” 
sighed Sandy. “ I don’t know what 
to do with them.” 

“ Let’s play London Bridge,” offered 
Polly. 

“ But you’re off to the Swamp.” 

“ I can go later,” said Polly, and 


21 


Polly Digs a Rose 

went into the game with all her heart. 
The little McLeods were laughing and 
good-natured when Polly stopped play- 
ing and went next door to Mrs. Terry’s. 

“Oh, Mrs. Terry,” she called, “have 
you a trowel you could lend me ? We 
don’t live in Poortown any more. It’s 
Rosevale, and I want to go to Bray’s 
Swamp to dig up some roses.” 

“ And what would I be doing with 
a trowel ? ” asked Mrs. Terry, good- 
naturedly, “me as hasn’t stepped over 
the sill this six months.” 

“ Don’t you get tired sitting here, 
Mrs. Terry?” asked Polly, kindly. 
“ What do you do all the time ? ” 

“ I look out the window and think 
about old times.” 

“ Would you like me to read to you 
a little while, Mrs. Terry ? ” 


22 


Polly’s Garden 

“You’re off to the Swamp, child.” 

“ But there’s all the afternoon. I’d 
like to read a little while.” 

So Polly dashed home for her favor- 
ite storybook and dashed back again 
with it to Mrs. Terry’s little room. 
For a whole hour she read before Mrs. 
Terry stopped her. 

“ It’s a good child you are,” she 
said, “ to give an hour of your Satur- 
day afternoon to an old body like me, 
and I’ve enjoyed it. I’ll be telling 
Sam, when he comes, that I’ve had a 
fairy calling on me. It’ll please Sam, 
for he’s fond of his old mother. And 
maybe he’ll like to know he lives in 
Rosevale. Now go on with you and 
see if Miss Smith has a trowel to lend 
you.” 

“ I’ll leave the book for Sam to read 


23 


Polly Digs a Rose 

to you,” said Polly, and danced on to 
Miss Smith’s little house. 

Miss Smith was on her knees in the 
entry and looked tired and cross. 

“ Have you a trowel you could lend 
me. Miss Smith ? ” Polly asked. “ I 
want to go to Bray’s Swamp to dig 
some rose bushes. Did you know 
Poortown was changed to Rosevale ? ” 

« I suppose there’s a trowel some- 
where, but I can’t look it up now. 
I’ve been on my knees for an hour 
trying to get up this oilcloth. The 
tacks are rusted in, and I’m all worn 
out over it. If I get up. I’ll never get 
down again.” 

« I can take out tacks beautifully,” 
offered Polly. “ I always do it for 
mother.” 

« I suppose you can see where the 


24 Polly’s Garden 

heads are. I can’t,” answered Miss 
Smith. 

« Give me the claw,” said Polly. 
“ I’ll soon get them out.” 

« But you are going to the Swamp, 
and it’s four o’clock now,” objected 
Miss Smith. 

“ Oh, I’ll have lots of time after I do 
this,” said Polly, cheerfully. 

Miss Smith watched her for a mo- 
ment and then got up stiffly and went 
to search for the trowel. She found it 
just as Polly pulled out the last obsti- 
nate tack. 

“You’re so good to lend it to me. 
Miss Smith ! ” Polly said. “ I’ll take 
very good care of it.” 

“ I’m obliged to you,” answered Miss 
Smith. She did not say thank you 
very often and did not know how very 


Polly Digs a Rose 25 

well. “ I’d have been at this job till 
supper-time. It’s half-past four, and 
it’s a good tramp to Bray’s Swamp. 
You run right along.” 

Holding her trowel tight, Polly ran 
and danced and sang all the way to the 
Swamp. 

« I never was so happy before,” she 
said to herself as she climbed the fence 
into the Swamp. “We live in Rose- 
vale, and I’m really going to have some 
rose bushes of my own. I guess I’ll 
get two dozen. I hope they won’t be 
hard to dig.” 

They were very hard to dig. The 
ground was wet, the trowel was small, 
Polly’s hands were not very strong, and 
the rose roots were very deep. She 
tried the big ones first, but she gave 
up on those very soon. Then she 


26 Polly’s Garden 

tried the middle-sized ones and gave 
up on those. At last, hot and tired, 
she had dug out a very small rose 
bush. 

« It scarcely shows,” she thought, as 
she stopped for breath, « and it’s taken 
an awful long time to dig it, but it’s 
a really truly rose bush. I suppose 
even one rose bush will make it more 
like Rosevale, but I’ll see if I can get 
more.” 

She dug one more, a little bigger 
than the first, and then it was time to 
go home. 

“ I think I’d better give one bush to 
Miss Smith,” thought Polly as she 
trudged home, « because she was so 
kind to lend me her trowel, and she 
doesn’t like lending things much. And 
I do believe I’ll plant the other in 


27 


Polly Digs a Rose 

Sam’s yard where his mother can see it 
when she sits by the window. I’d hate 
to sit in a window all day. I’ll call it 
mine, just the same. Sandy’ll plant 
them for me.” 

When she reached Miss Smith’s house, 
Miss Smith was in the doorway. 

“ I’ve brought back your trowel all 
safe, and I’ve brought you a rose bush, 
too,” called Polly. « Sandy’ll plant it 
for you after supper.” 

« What’ll I do with a rose bush ? ” 
grumbled Miss Smith. “ I’ve got 
more’n I can look after already.” 

But she put the roots in a pail of 
water to keep the bush fresh till it was 
planted, and Polly carried the other 
rose home to put its roots in water, 
too, till after supper. Then she bent 
over and kissed it. 


28 


Polly’s Garden 

“You’re not very big,” she whis- 
pered, “ but I love you. You’ll like 
being transplanted, won’t you, little 
rose — for you’re going to help make 
Rosevale ! ” 


CHAPTER IV 


Farmer Allen Lends a Horse 

When supper was eaten and cleared 
away, she hurried out to find Sandy. 
Instead of Sandy, she ran into Big Sam. 

“ O Sam,” she cried eagerly, “ have 
you seen our new sign ? ” 

Sam turned and looked at it. 
“ Rosevale, eh ! That’s pretty stylish. 
Sounds some better than Poortown. 
But where’s the roses ? ” 

“ I dug up two bushes to-day. I 
meant to get a lot, but I was late 
starting and they came up so hard. 
Anyhow, even one rose would make it 
Rosevale, wouldn’t it, Sam ? ” 

« I guess it would, Polly, if you 

29 


3 ° 


Polly’s Garden 

planted it. Do you know you tickled 
my mother to pieces with that story- 
book of yours.” 

“Yes. She liked it. You’ll finish 
it to her, won’t you, Sam ? You can 
read sitting down, you know, so you 
won’t get tired.” 

Sam threw back his head in a big 
laugh and went on to the Greenwood 
porch to smoke his after-supper pipe 
with Mr. Greenwood. Polly went to 
find Sandy. 

He was just coming out from the 
house. Luckily the baby was asleep, 
and Jamie and Angus and Jessie were 
getting their Saturday night baths 
and going to bed early, so Sandy 
was free. 

“ I got two bushes, Sandy ; that 
was all I could dig,” Polly said. 


Farmer Allen Lends a Horse 31 

“Won’t you get our spade and plant 
them for me ? The spade’s too big 
for me.” 

“ Where will you have them 
planted ? ” asked Sandy. “ One each 
side of your gate ? ” 

“ They would look lovely there, 
wouldn’t they ? ” said Polly. “ Oh, 
Sandy, wouldn’t a hedge be lovely all 
along the fence ! Do you suppose we 
could get enough sometime ? ” 

“ How’d we haul ’em ? ” asked prac- 
tical Sandy. “ These two’ll look pretty 
by the fence posts till we do.” 

“ They can’t go by the fence posts,” 
laughed Polly. “ I gave one to Miss 
Smith because she lent me her trowel. 
And I want to plant mine where Sam’s 
mother can see it. She hasn’t put 
a foot over the sill in six months. 


32 Polly’s Garden 

and she’d like to watch a rose bush 
grow.” 

« Then 


yours t 


asked 


where’s 
Sandy bluntly. 

“ This is mine,” answered Polly, 
« only Tm going to plant it in Sam’s 
yard. You don’t mind, do you, 
Sam ? ” she called to him. 

“ Mind ? ” answered Sam. « When 
a little girl spends an afternoon trowel- 
lin’ out two rose bushes and gives ’em 
both away ! I don’t know, though, 
what two roses count in a place called 
Rosevale. You ought to have a whole 
slew of ’em, Polly.” 

« I know,” said Polly wistfully. 
“ And there are slews in Bray’s Swamp. 
There are enough to plant a hedge all 
along our fence and then there’d be so 
many left that no one would know any 


Farmer Allen Lends a Horse 


33 


were gone. But they’re awful hard to 
dig, Sam. My arms aren’t strong 
enough and Sandy can’t get off very 
often.” 

ow about me ? ” asked Shiftless 

Sam. 

Polly’s face sparkled with joy. 
“Oh, Sam, could you? You could 
dig millions ; you’ve got such strong 
blacksmith-arms. But wouldn’t it 
make you very tired ? ” 

Sam laughed again and then his face 
grew sober. “ I guess I can be as 
good a sport as a nine-year-old girl,” 
he said. “ How about next Saturday 
afternoon, eh ? for you and me and 
the spade and Bray’s Swamp? We’ll 
dig up enough bushes for two hedges 
if you want them.” 

Polly whirled around three times in 


34 


Polly’s Garden 

her delight, her brown curls flying, and 
sat down suddenly, “ making a cheese ” 
with her short skirts. 

“ Oh, Sam, how good you are ! ” 
she cried, and then she sat very still. 
“ But how’ll we haul them ? ” 

“ That’s the question,” said Sam, 
rubbing his head. “ I can dig more 
than I can carry.” 

Polly still sat cross-legged, pulling at 
the grass while she thought. 

“ It’s just the time to dig the 
bushes,” Sandy said, “ for they haven’t 
begun to leaf out yet. It’s a good 
chance they’d live if you’d take them 
now.” 

Polly sprang up. “ I know what 
I’m going to do. Farmer Allen said 
I could have a ride behind old Gray 
whenever I wanted. He wouldn’t be 


Farmer Allen Lends a Horse 


35 


working late Saturday afternoon. I’m 
going to ask him to lend me his horse 
and wagon. Could you drive old 
Gray, Sam ? ” 

« Maybe I could,” twinkled Sam. 
“ I never see him try to run away yet. 
He’s like me, and he’s great at standing 
still.” 

“ I’ll see Mr. Allen at church to- 
morrow and I’ll ask him. He’s a 
friend of mine and I know he’ll say 
yes,” declared Polly. “You won’t 
forget, Sam ? ” 

“ Sure, I won’t,” answered good- 
natured Sam. 

“ I’ll keep reminding you,” said 
Polly. “ Come on, Sandy, let’s go 
plant the rose bushes.” 

Polly found Mr. Allen after church 
on Sunday. He walked part of the 


36 Polly’s Garden 

way home with her. She clung to his 
hand and told him all about Rosevale 
and the need of rose bushes. 

“ And Sam will dig me all the 
bushes Gray can carry,” she ended. 

Mr. Allen laughed out. “ Good 
enough ! We couldn’t miss that 
chance to get Sam to work. I know 
now why your father put those four 
new shoes on Gray yesterday ; it was 
to lug those roses home. I’ll happen 
along about five o’clock next Saturday 
and bring home all the Swamp that’s 
dug up. You’ll leave the Swamp it- 
self, won’t you ? ” 

“ We’re going to be very careful,” 
promised Polly. “ We’re going to take 
only what we need and not muss up 
things a bit. Sam works very nicely — 
when he does work.” 


Farmer Allen Lends a Horse 37 

« I guess you’d get work out of a 
bear in winter,” laughed Mr. Allen. 
“ This is where I leave you. Good- 
by till Saturday.” 

“ Good-by,” said Polly. “ And 
thank you, Mr. Allen.” 

She ran on to overtake her father 
and mother. She soon caught up with 
them, and passed them, for her feet 
were so happy they had to dance. 

She got home first and sat down on 
the porch to wait. With her elbows 
on her knees and her chin in her palms, 
she looked at the sagging gray fence, 
not seeing the fence at all, but the 
beautiful rose hedge that was to be. 

Suddenly she sat up straight and her 
eyes shone like stars. “I’ve got a 
name for our place,” she said. “ It’s 
named Rose Hedge." 


CHAPTER V 


Mr. Greenwood Makes a Bed 

Polly chattered all dinner-time 
about her rose hedge until her mother 
smiled and told her how the roses grew 
in England. 

“You’ll need to dig a long trench 
in this poor earth and put in plenty 
of fertilizer,” she said. “ Roses like a 
great deal. Likely Mrs. McLeod will 
give you what you want from her cow- 
stable.” 

“I’ll ask Sandy; he’ll dig the trench 
for me,” Polly answered. “ And I’ll 
give you the very first rose that grows, 
mother.” 


38 


Mr. Greenwood Makes a Bed 39 

Mrs. Greenwood laughed a little and 
sighed a little. “ It’s a poor enough 
place the roses are coming to, Polly. 
They’ll be ashamed to look at their 
surroundings, I’m thinking, when they 
open their eyes. They’ll wish they 
were back in the Swamp.” 

“ Oh, no, they won’t, mother,” pro- 
tested Polly. “ I’m going to tend 
them so carefully, they’ll be glad they 
came to help make Rosevale. Isn’t it 
a lovely name, mother ? ” 

« The name’s good enough, but this 
is a pretty poor place. I’ve been at 
your father for five years to spruce 
things up, but somehow nothing ever 
gets done.” 

« The house doesn’t leak,” said Mr. 
Greenwood, rather gruffly, “ and what’s 
the use of doing anything to this old 


40 Polly’s Garden 

shack, when all the other houses look 
even worse.” 

« Oh, father,” cried Polly, « it isn’t a 
shack ! It’s Rose Hedge.” 

« I’ll believe it when I see the 
roses.” 

« I believe it now,” said Polly, wist- 
fully. 

« So you shall,” comforted her 
mother. « Now run out and tell 
Sandy about the trench. I don’t 
need any help with the dishes to-day.” 

Polly and Sandy planned eagerly, 
and the very next afternoon Sandy 
started to dig. 

The grass roots were tough and the 
spade was heavy. Sandy dug and 
panted until the drops stood on his 
forehead. He worked an hour and 
had not dug two feet. 


Mr. Greenwood Makes a Bed 41 

“ Couldn’t I do some, while you 
rest ? ” asked Polly. 

Sandy shook his head and ran his 
shirt sleeve across his hot forehead. 

« I’ll get it done before Saturday,” 
he panted. 

Mr. Greenwood, having no job on 
hand, was taking a vacation on the 
porch. For a while he watched 
Sandy’s struggles. Then he came 
down across the grass, took the spade 
from Sandy, and began to dig with 
sure, firm strokes. Before he was 
called away, he had dug half-way across 
one side of the dooryard. 

« Oh, father, I do love you ! ” Polly 
said, her arms around his neck. 

Mr. Greenwood, with a little grunt, 
kissed her and went off to his job. 
Sandy’s mother called him just then. 


42 


Polly’s Garden 

so he stood the spade against the fence 
and went home to mind the baby. 

Polly tried a little digging on her 
own account, but it was too hard for 
her nine-year-old arms. She soon gave 
up, and put the spade back against the 
fence. 

It stood there so ready for work, 
that when Mr. Greenwood came back 
from the shop to get ready for supper, 
he picked it up again and did not lay 
it down till he had dug across the first 
half of the yard and had reached the 
gate. 

“ There, Polly,” he said, « will that 
satisfy you ? ” 

“ I did want it all the way across,” 
cried Polly, fluttering about like a 
bird. 

“If Shiftless Sam digs you enough 


Mr. Greenwood Makes a Bed 


43 


roses to fill this trench, he’ll be working 
harder than he ever did before in his 
life.” 

« Shiftless Sam,” across the street, 
heard. “ I’ll fill all the ditch you dig,” 
he called good-naturedly. 

Polly laughed. “You’ll be like Mr. 
Allen, father ; he said he wouldn’t stop 
Sam from working. You’d like to help 
Sam work, too, wouldn’t you, father ? ” 

Mr. Greenwood laughed a little to 
himself. “ What a tongue you’ve got 
in your head, Polly ! Come in now, 
it’s supper-time.” 

Mr. Greenwood did not dig any 
more that night, but the next day, 
without being asked, he started on the 
other side of the fence and dug a little, 
and the next day he dug a little more, 
and the next day still a little more, till 


44 


Polly’s Garden 

he had gone across the whole dooryard. 
Then, when Sandy and the wheelbarrow 
had brought the fertilizer and scattered 
it along the bottom of the trench, Mr. 
Greenwood threw back on top of it 
some of the earth he had dug. On 
Friday night there stood the long rose 
bed all across the front of the Green- 
wood yard, waiting for the roses that 
were to make Rosevale. 

Polly could scarcely sleep that night, 
and she was up as soon as the sun on 
Saturday morning. The sun was there, 
laughing at her out of a clear sky, and 
Polly laughed back. It was going to 
be such a perfectly wonderful day ! 

There were always a great many 
horses to be shod on Saturday morn- 
ing and Sam was very busy. Polly was 
busy, too, helping mother, but she ran 


Mr. Greenwood Makes a Bed 45 

over to the forge every once in a while 
to warn Sam not to get too tired. 

“Just getting my muscle up, little 
Polly,” laughed big Sam. « The boss 
says I can get off at three-thirty, so be 
ready ! ” 

Polly was ready long before that 
time and dancing on one foot while 
she waited for Sam. She danced all 
the way to Bray’s Swamp, and her 
tongue went as fast as her feet. 

« If I talked as much in a day as 
you do in an hour,” laughed Sam, “ I’d 
be worn out. Here we are ! Choose 
your bushes and I’ll grub them out. 
How many do you want ? ” 

“ I want fifty,” answered Polly. 
“Sandy and I counted. Can you dig 
as many as that ? ” 

“ I’ll fill up that rose bed or die for 


46 


Polly’s Garden 

it,” said Sam. But when he had thirty 
he was ready to stop. 

« Only twenty more,” coaxed Polly. 
“You’re so strong, Sam, and that’s an 
awful long bed. And old Gray’s such 
a big horse. I know he’ll want to 
pull more than just thirty bushes. 
You can dig more with your strong 
arms, can’t you, Sam ? ” 

“ I expect I can,” said Sam, “ if you 
give me time to breathe.” 

After he had breathed, at it he went 
again. He dug all the bushes Polly 
picked out, and when Farmer Allen 
and old Gray stopped outside the bars, 
in a big clump waiting to be carried 
home, there stood the fifty rose bushes 
that were to make Rose Hedge and 
Rosevale. 


CHAPTER VI 


Mrs. Terry Takes a Walk 

Mr. Greenwood and Sam and Sandy 
worked till the last gleam of daylight 
to plant the fifty rose bushes and give 
them a big drink of water to make 
them like their new home. When 
Sandy and Sam had gone home and 
Mr. Greenwood into the house, Polly 
went down the long line and touched 
each bush softly with her hand. 

“ This is your home now,” she 
whispered. « I invited you to live 
with me for I love you. Your ad- 
dress is ‘ Rose Hedge, Rosevale,’ now, 
instead of Bray’s Swamp.” 

As soon as Polly was dressed the 


47 


48 


Polly’s Garden 

next morning, she called on her rose 
bushes. After breakfast she called on 
them again, and when she came home 
from school, and after supper. And 
the next day she did it all over again. 
Every day for a month she tended 
them, was glad when the sun shone 
and when the rain fell to help along 
the bushes who had changed their ad- 
dress. Every day, too, she and Sandy 
added flowers to their paper « pretend 
garden,” to make it fine enough to lie 
behind the rose hedge. 

Then one morning Sam called, 
« Hello, Polly, your rose bush in our 
yard is greening up. How about your 
fifty ? ” 

Polly dashed across to see her first- 
born. « You darling ! You darling I ” 
she exclaimed. « Keep right on now 


Mrs. Terry Takes a Walk 49 

and make some flowers. I must look 
at Miss Smith’s.” 

Miss Smith’s rose, too, was turning 
green, and the very next day the hedge 
began to show signs of life. Polly was 
crazy with joy. 

She watched more carefully than 
ever, then, until one day on Mrs. 
Terry’s bush she found a tiny bud. 
As fast as she could she got to Sandy’s 
house. 

“ There’s a bud, Sandy, there’s a 
bud,” she called. « Come and see it.” 

“I can’t leave,” he said. “Jamie’s 
not to get out the day. How big is it? ” 

“ It isn’t very big yet but it’s going 
to be a rose. And there’ll be roses on 
all the hedge. Oh, Sandy, won’t it be 
lovely ? ” 

“ I’m thinking maybe we’d better 


5 ° 


Polly’s Garden 

take the yellow out of those corner 
beds and have them all pink and 
white,” answered Sandy. 

« Oh, yes,” agreed Polly. “ Give 
me the plan and I’ll write them in. 
We can leave the blue, can’t we, 
Sandy ? ” 

“Yes, the blue goes. I was up at 
Mr. Martin’s place this morning and 
his gardener, Mr. Saunders, let me look 
all over the garden. He’s a Scotch- 
man like myself, and he’s that fond of 
flowers. If you could have seen that 
garden, Polly ! ” 

“ What was in it ? ” 

“ Foxglove and iris and sweet wil- 
liam and forget-me-nots — all the 
early things ; and roses coming out. 
Wait till the night, Polly, and I’ll help 
you write them in, in the proper beds.” 


Mrs. Terry Takes a Walk 51 

“ That’ll be fun,” agreed Polly. 
« Oh, Sandy, don’t you wish we had 
a truly garden instead of just a piece 
of paper ? Maybe we will have, some- 
time. You don’t know when you’re 
going to get things. I didn’t know 
the sign was coming or the rose hedge. 
The garden may come yet, Sandy.” 

“ It’s not likely. I’m afraid,” said 
practical Sandy. “ When mother comes 
back I’ll go to Mrs. Terry’s and see 
the wee bud.” 

« All right,” said Polly, skipping off. 

She couldn’t wait so long as that, 
though, for someone to see the baby 
rose-bud. Someone must admire it 
with her right away. 

She peeped into her own house. 
Mother was making bread ; there was 
no use asking her. Father and Sam 


52 


Polly’s Garden 

were busy in the forge ; no use in ask- 
ing them. Miss Smith’s bedroom shade 
was down ; that meant she was taking 
a nap. Mr. Huggins was puttering 
about in his yard, but he looked too 
cross to care about rose-buds. No 
one was left but Mrs. Terry. Polly 
tapped at her door and Mrs. Terry 
told her to come in. 

“ Have you looked at your rose 
bush to-day, Mrs. Terry?” Polly asked 
breathlessly. 

“ Sure enough,” answered the old 
lady. “ I look at it every day.” 

“ But I mean close. Have you seen 
the bud ? ” 

“ Now how could I see a bud as far 
off as that ? Wait till it turns pink 
and then I’ll see it.” 

“ But I do want some one to see it 


53 


Mrs. Terry Takes a Walk 

right away now,” said Polly, dancing 
in her eagerness. « It’s the very first 
bud on my darling bushes. Couldn’t 
you see it with your far spectacles, 
Mrs. Terry ? ” 

But even with the “ far spectacles ” 
Mrs. Terry could discover no tiny rose- 
bud. Indeed, Polly scarcely could see 
it herself at that distance. 

“ I’m sure you could see more 
from the front window,” urged Polly. 
“ Could you come as far as that, 
Mrs. Terry?” 

« Give me my team of horses, then, 
to pull me,” said the kindly old lady. 

Polly put the cane in Mrs. Terry’s 
right hand and the back of a chair 
under her left hand, and Mrs. Terry 
got as far as the window, but she could 
not see the bud. 


54 Polly’s Garden 

« Come to the front door,” begged 
Polly. “ I’m sure you can see from 
there.” 

But Mrs. Terry couldn’t. 

Polly grew more daring. She 
danced till the brown curls danced, too, 
as gayly. Without a word she was back 
in the room and dragging Mrs. Terry’s 
rocking-chair out through the door and 
over the grass to the rose bush. Then 
she came back to Mrs. Terry. 

« Couldn’t you come as far as that? ” 
she breathed. “ It’s only about twenty 
steps. You can lean on me on one 
side and your cane on the other. 
Please come. See how lovely it is 
outdoors.” 

« Go on with you,” answered Mrs. 
Terry. “I haven’t crossed the sill in 
months.” 


I 


I 


9 


I 

1 




I 

« 

» - 

V» - I 


t 


I 

i % 


r 


4 

f 

I 


1 


f m . - 


& 


♦ 

•1 


t 

? 


i. 


■ 


I, 


\ 

1 



I 




I . 


T 

i 


? 



I 

• •• 9* 


9 



» 


r 


« 


4» i 




I 


f « 

!• 

I 

t • 




► 



»*• 



> , 




>r 





1 



I 


r 


t 


% 


r 




« 


✓ 




4 


4 ' 



^9 





*r 


i 



I 




» 

% 




4 









■ y 







✓ 


% 



55 


Mrs. Terry Takes a Walk 

“ But it can’t hurt you,” protested 
Polly. « I can help you beautifully. 
It’s only one step to the ground, and 
I’ll flat the grass down so you can 
walk. I know you can do it. You 
see, Sam said work didn’t agree with 
him, but he worked very hard to dig 
those roses and it didn’t hurt him a bit. 
He didn’t know till he’d tried, you see. 
Just try, Mrs. Terry, and you’ll find 
out how wonderful it is. Your chair’s 
waiting and it’s only twenty steps, and 
I do want some one to see that lovely 
bud.” 

“You’d wheedle the heart out of a 
toad,” said Mrs. Terry. “If I can 
step down to the ground maybe I can 
do it.” 

The chairback and the cane sup- 
ported her to the ground, and then 


56 Polly’s Garden 

with her left arm over Polly’s shoulder 
she got as far as her rocking-chair. 
She dropped into it and breathed hard 
for a few moments, and then she 
looked at Polly and laughed. 

“You’ve done what I didn’t think 
anybody could do. I never expected 
to feel the grass under my feet again.” 

Polly flung her arms around her 
friend’s neck. “ Isn’t it beautiful out 
here ! I do love you for coming, Mrs. 
Terry. I’m going to tell Sam.” 

She ran across to the forge. “ Look 
over there, Sam,” she said. 

Sam came to the door and looked. 
His mouth opened in amazement. But 
all he said was, “Jerusalem crickets ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 

Mrs. Terry saw the bud, and the 
blue sky as well, and the robin nesting 
in the apple tree above her head. She 
sat there enjoying it for an hour, and 
then big Sam helped her back. 

“ Wasn’t it nice ? ” sang Polly as 
she pulled the rocking-chair ahead of 
the procession so that it would be 
ready for Mrs. Terry when she got 
back to her usual window. 

Mrs. Terry hadn’t enough breath to 
answer them, but she thought her sup- 
per had never tasted as good as it did 
that night and she slept like a baby. 

Sandy saw the bud the next morn- 

57 


58 Polly’s Garden 

ing and then his sharp eyes discovered 
a bud on the rose hedge. The next 
day there was another, and the next 
another, and then one day an open 
pink rose. Mrs. Terry got as far as 
her fence to see that. 

The day it came out Polly missed 
on “ honeycomb ” in school, for she 
was wondering so hard whether the 
bees would make honey from the roses 
that she forgot how to spell. 

After the first rose, there came many 
others, and soon the flush of pink had 
run over the whole hedge until it 
looked like a sunset cloud. 

When Saturday came, Polly took 
her flower catalogue and garden plan 
out on the porch as usual, waiting for 
Sandy to come to play garden with 
her. As she sat and looked at her 


59 


Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 

roses, chin in palms and all her dimples 
dimpling with joy, down the hill op- 
posite came a big automobile. There 
were a lady and a gentleman in it, and 
a boy and a girl. Motor cars did not 
often come over this rough road and 
Polly watched this one with great in- 
terest. 

The car stopped before Mrs. Mc- 
Leod’s, and the lady went into the 
house. Then the gentleman got out 
of the car and came across to Polly’s 
hedge. Polly ran down the path to 
meet him, for it was Mr. Martin. 

« Good morning, Roeslein,” he said. 

« I’m Polly,” she laughed. 

« So you are. I thought for a mo- 
ment you were a rose that had just run 
away from that wonderful hedge. I 
saw the Valley of Roses from the top 
of the hill.” 


6o 


Polly’s Garden 

« Did you ? ” Polly asked in delight. 
« Sam got them in Bray’s Swamp. 
There had to be roses in Rosevale.” 

« That’s bottom truth. Will you 
give me a blossom for my button- 
hole ? ” 

“ I’ll find you the very prettiest rose 
of all,” exclaimed Polly, “ for you’re 
the founder of Rosevale. We had in 
school about Romulus founding Rome 
and I knew right away you had 
founded Rosevale.” 

Mr. Martin laughed as he bent for 
Polly to pin the rose in his coat. “I 
can’t claim that. It is Polly’s Valley 
of Roses. I made you think of it, per- 
haps, but you did the work. Let’s be 
founders together, shall we ? Now 
you’ve given me a present, I want to 
give you one.” 


Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 6i 

He dropped into Polly’s hand a new 
quarter, which, for all its sparkle, could 
not shine as bright as Polly’s eyes. 

“ For me ! ” she breathed. « Can I 
spend it ? ” 

“ That’s what quarters are for.” 

Polly turned, dashed for her cata- 
logue, and was back at the gate in a 
twinkling. 

“ Sandy drew this plan,” she ex- 
plained. “ We’ve just pretended to 
plant flowers in it. Now we can have 
some real ones. I told Sandy they’d 
come. It’s something like your garden. 
You don’t mind, do you ? ” 

« I am flattered,” said Mr. Martin 
gravely, studying the paper. 

« Sandy carries home the sewing that 
his mother — Mrs. McLeod, you know 
— does for Mrs. Martin, and Mr. 


62 


Polly’s Garden 

Saunders, your gardener, is a Scotch- 
man like Sandy and he loves flowers 
just like Sandy does, and shows them 
to him.” 

“ I see. Why doesn’t Sandy work 
at flowers if he likes them so much ? ” 

« He can’t be spared. There’s four 
little ones ; and they’re a handful. 
Mrs. McLeod would like to sew all the 
time, so she could stay home and mind 
the children, but she can’t get so much 
sewing, and so she goes out and washes. 
When Sandy grows up he’s going to be 
a gardener. He’ll be awfully glad we 
can buy some seeds for our garden. 
Just think ! I’ve got a real rose hedge 
— I’ve named the place Rose Hedge — 
and now I’ll have real flowers.” 

“ There comes Mrs. Martin and I 
must go,” Mr. Martin said. “ Let me 


Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 63 

take your catalogue a minute. This is 
what I’d buy if I were you, for they 
will flower this year and last longest — 
petunias, asters, ragged sailors, zinnias, 
and marigolds. Those are all gay and 
friendly.” 

He marked the catalogue at the 
flowers he mentioned and handed it 
back to Polly, who thanked him with 
her dimples as much as with her tongue. 

« Come over to the car,” Mr. Martin 
said. « I want to introduce you to my 
family.” 

Polly went in a happy flutter. Mrs. 
Martin shook hands with her, and the 
children smiled in friendly fashion. 
Then Sandy came out with a parcel to 
put in the car, and Polly introduced 
him to Mr. Martin. 

« I’m glad to meet you,” Mr. Martin 


64 Polly’s Garden 

said heartily. “ I’m fond of boys who 
like flowers. Good-bye.” 

Shy Sandy blushed with pleasure. 
The big car drove off, and then Polly 
showed Sandy her treasure. 

As Mrs. Martin had called for her 
work, Sandy did not have to take the 
bundle home, and the first thing after 
dinner, he and Polly were off" to the 
village to buy seeds. 

They found that they could get six 
packets of seeds for their quarter, and 
chose sweet alyssum for the extra flower 
so that they might have sweetness as 
well as gay color in their garden. 

“We’ll plant your mother a garden, 
Sandy,” Polly said, as they trudged 
home. “And Mrs. Terry must have 
one. The roses will be over soon, and 
it’ll need more flowers to get Mrs. 


Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 65 

Terry used to going out doors. I 
think Miss Smith would like some, 
too.” 

“ And where’ll your garden be ? ” 
asked Sandy. 

“ Oh, never mind,” said Polly. « I’ve 
got the rose hedge, you know. And 
we can have lots of fun with our paper 
garden. Let’s give the real flowers to 
the people that can’t play. Will you 
dig the beds, Sandy ? ” 

Sandy dug Mrs. Terry’s bed first, 
back against her side fence. The chil- 
dren edged it with sweet alyssum, and 
planted inside ragged sailors and mari- 
golds and zinnias. 

« Isn’t the earth sweet ; it’s so 
brown and soft,” exclaimed Polly, 
poking her fingers in it, “ and those 
dear little seeds we covered up will just 


66 


Polly’s Garden 

grow and grow to come up white, and 
blue, and yellow, and mixed. Oh, 
Sandy, I’m so happy about it I 
Only — ” 

“ Only what ? ” asked Sandy. 

“ It isn’t a very pretty yard, is it, to 
have such a lovely bed ? ” 

The gate slammed and big Sam 
came across the grass. 

“ What are you doing in my yard ? ” 
he asked in his big voice, “ and what 
makes you wrinkle your forehead up 
like that. Pretty Polly Perkins.” 

Polly seized his hand. “ See, Sam, 
we’ve made your mother a garden. 
It’ll come up all blue and yellow. 
And, Sam, don’t you think when those 
dear little flowers come up they’ll be 
a little ashamed to see how untidy the 
grass looks around them ? ” 


Shiftless Sam Swings a Scythe 67 

Sam threw back his head and 
laughed. “You do beat all, Polly, 
for thinking of things. If you’ve 
planted the flowers, I suppose it’s up 
to me to spare their feelings. There’s 
a scythe hanging in the forge, Sandy, 
and a whetstone on the beam beside 
it.” 

Sandy’s feet flew. Sam took the 
scythe and the stone and sharpened 
the blade with a musical clank. Then 
the long sweep of his strong arm be- 
gan to lay the grass in the dooryard 
as flat as a sheep pasture. 

“ Oh, Sam,” exclaimed Polly danc- 
ing on her tippest-toes, “ you aren’t 
‘ Shiftless Sam ’ any more, just like 
Rosevale isn’t Poortown.” 


CHAPTER VIII 
Miss Smith Paints a Fence 

When he finished his mowing, Sam 
stopped to rest. 

“ Get your wheelbarrow, Sandy, and 
take the grass home for your cow’s 
supper,” he said. “ Maybe to-morrow 
we’ll mow Polly’s grass and give Sukey 
another meal.” 

“ Oh, Sam, will you ? ” cried Polly. 
“ But do Miss Smith’s first, won’t you, 
because I want to plant her a flower 
bed, too. Mrs. McLeod’s grass won’t 
have to be done because Sukey eats it 
growing. And then maybe I can coax 
Mr. Huggins to do his.” 

Sam mowed Miss Smith’s yard Mon- 

6S 


Miss Smith Paints a Fence 69 

day evening and Polly’s on Tuesday, 
and Sukey had two delicious suppers. 

Miss Smith grumbled a little at giv- 
ing away her grass, but the dooryard 
looked so trim and tidy that she really 
was pleased. She said yes, right away, 
when Polly asked if she might make a 
flower bed. Miss Smith’s bed had 
asters and petunias in behind its sweet 
alyssum border. 

Then Sandy asked his mother about 
a flower bed. 

« Dig all you want to,” she said, « if 
you don’t ask me to weed it. You’ll 
have to keep Sukey and the children 
away from it.” 

So more petunias and asters and 
ragged sailors and zinnias went into 
Mrs. McLeod’s garden. Only a few 
marigold seeds were left. 


70 


Polly’s Garden 

« Would you dare ask Mr. Huggins 
to let • us make him a bed, Sandy ? ” 
asked Polly. “ I guess I will.” 

She went rather tremblingly, for 
Mr. Huggins did not like children or 
flowers. 

“ Please, Mr. Huggins,” she panted, 
“ we’re making everybody flower 
gardens so it’ll be more like Rose- 
vale. May we make you one ? ” 

“ I haven’t got no time to bother 
with flower gardens,” he grunted. 
“ What money do they put in your 
pocket ? ” 

« I’ll take all the care of it,” pleaded 
Polly. 

« I don’t want young ones traipsing 
through my place.” 

« But I’m so anxious to have all the 
places look pretty,” sighed Polly. 


Miss Smith Paints a Fence 


71 


Mr. Huggins looked around him 
and laughed. « I don’t see much 
pretty about here. You get your own 
place fixed up, and your dooryard 
blossoming like the gardens in the 
desert they tell about, and I’ll tidy up 
my place. I give you my word.” 

Polly and Sandy went home rather 
downcast. 

« His word’s good,” Sandy said. 
“ He’ll keep it.” 

“Yes,” agreed Polly, “but I don’t 
care so much for words. I’d rather 
have a little doings.” 

“ There’s not much left for your 
bed,” Sandy said. 

« But I’ve got the rose hedge,” 
answered Polly. 

That night as Polly sat on the porch 
after supper, thinking how nice it would 


72 


Polly’s Garden 

be if Mr. Huggins would mow his 
grass and let her plant a flower bed, 
Mr. Greenwood came out through the 
door and stood behind her. 

« That fence looks pretty bad since 
the grass came down,” he said. “ Get 
me a hammer and some nails, Polly, 
and I’ll see if I can tinker it.” 

Polly jumped up joyfully. She 
brought the hammer and held the 
nails while Mr. Greenwood began at 
the corner of the fence beyond the 
blacksmith shop and came along that 
side and then across the whole front, 
putting in the nails wherever they were 
needed. 

“ Oh, father, you know how to do 
such a lot of things,” Polly said. 
« That’s a lovely straight fence now. 
Don’t you want to come across to Miss 


Miss Smith Paints a Fence 73 

Smith’s ? She’s got some loose pickets, 
and one of her posts wobbles. She’s 
too thin to hammer much.” 

« I should think you were running 
an Old Lady’s Home,” grunted Mr. 
Greenwood. 

But he went, and his hammer soon 
had Miss Smith’s fence standing straight 
too. She came out and told him how 
he could do it better, but she said “thank 
you ” when he went home. 

Polly dragged Sam the next morning 
to admire the mended fences. In the 
evening she took the hammer and nails 
and ran across to his porch. 

“It really is very easy work, Sam,” 
she coaxed, “ and I’ll hold the nails for 
you as I did for father. It won’t take 
long just to mend your fence and Mrs. 
McLeod’s. Will you, Sam ? ” 


74 


Polly’s Garden 

Sam laughed, put away his pipe, and 
took the hammer. Before dark the 
fences stood straight and firm. 

“ Only Mr. Huggins left,” sighed 
Polly as she ran home. “ I wish I knew 
how to make the desert blossom, so 
Mr. Huggins would have to keep his 
word. But I can’t do it on only a few 
marigold seeds.” 

Polly went to bed rather late that 
night and so she did not wake up very 
early the next morning. Her mother 
called her just in time to eat her break- 
fast and run off to school. 

Polly pranced down the path, but at 
the gate she stood stock still. 

« Oh, Miss Smith,” she gasped, « how 
lovely ! ” 

Miss Smith, with a big pail and 
whitewash brush, stood by her fence, 


Miss Smith Paints a Fence 75 

and the fence down its whole length 
was shining in whiteness. 

Miss Smith almost smiled. « It does 
look pretty good,” she agreed, “ and 
I’ve got enough mixed to do yours 
too, if you want to take it.” 

If Polly wanted to take it ! She 
scarcely could wait for school to be 
out to have the fun of spreading that 
beautiful shining coat over their gray 
old fence. 

Sandy helped. Therewas just enough 
to do the last picket. Then the Green- 
wood fence smiled across the road at 
the Smith fence. 

And then, of course, Polly coaxed 
big Sam to do his fence and Mrs. Mc- 
Leod’s. When they were finished, she 
and Sandy stood in the Greenwood 
porch and looked at the white line 


76 Polly’s Garden 

which ended when it reached Mr. 
Huggins’ place. 

“ If only he would fix up, too,” 
sighed Polly. “ Do you suppose we 
could ever make this yard blossom as 
in the desert, Sandy ? ” 

« I don’t know how we’d begin,” 
answered Sandy. 

“ I don’t know, either, with only a 
few marigold seeds to do it with. Do 
you think if we did begin we’d find a 
way to go on, like my getting one rose 
and Sam digging me a whole hedge ? ” 

Sandy rubbed the back of his red 
head. “Well, get the plan,” he said, 
“and maybe we can find some way.” 

Polly wrinkled her forehead. “ I 
don’t know where the plan is,” she said. 
“ I can’t find it anywhere since I showed 
it to Mr. Martin on Saturday.” 


Miss Smith Paints a Fence 


77 


« Let’s look again,” said Sandy. 

But, though they searched every- 
where, the garden plan was not to be 
found. 


CHAPTER IX 


Saunders Works a Miracle 

“The wind must have blown the 
plan away, I guess,” Polly said at 
length. “ Can’t you do it again, 
Sandy ? ” 

“It would take an awful lot of time, 
Polly.” 

“ Maybe we can remember it. It 
had the straight path up the middle. 
We can do that, Sandy; the path is 
awfully wobbly. Let’s begin by mak- 
ing the path straight, and we can take 
the weeds out of it. You get your 
hoe and I’ll get ours.” 

Sandy came back with the hoe, the 
baby, and the three children. The 


Saunders Works a Miracle 79 

baby was asleep. Angus and Jamie 
and Jessie were very much awake, but 
they sat in a row on the grass while 
Sandy and Polly made their hoes fly. 

They did not stop till the last weed 
was dug out. As they straightened 
their tired backs, Mrs. McLeod came 
across to take the baby home. Her 
tired face smiled a little as she saw the 
path. 

“You’re surely good workers,” she 
said. “ Run away home, Sandy, and 
fetch me the string bag and I’ll show 
you how to cut the edges of the path 
straight. You get the spade, Polly 
girl.” 

Sandy and Polly were back in no 
time. Mrs. McLeod knotted the ends 
of the string together in a long piece. 
One end she fastened by the gate and 


8o 


Polly’s Garden 

carried the cord along the edge of the 
path up to the porch, where she fas- 
tened the other end. 

« Now cut the edge straight by the 
cord, Sandy, with your spade, and 
you’ll have a beautiful path.” 

She carried the baby home and 
Polly kept the children quiet on the 
grass while Sandy cut the edge of the 
path. Then they changed the string 
to the other side and cut that. And 
when it was all done, they rolled the 
string up, and raked the path free of 
weeds. 

“ Oh, isn’t it beautiful ! ” Polly 
breathed as the last weed went into 
the wheelbarrow. 

« How much do you charge to walk 
on that path ? ” asked Sam from the 
forge door. 


Saunders Works a Miracle 


« It’s too beautiful to walk on,” an- 
swered Polly. 

« It’s a work of art,” agreed Sam. 
« I’ll tell you what, Polly ! If you and 
Sandy will do my path like that. I’ll tin- 
ker up the old lawn-mower in the cor- 
ner of the forge and run it over every lawn 
in Rosevale — except Mr. Huggins’.” 

“Oh, Sam,” exclaimed Polly, “you’re 
getting to have work agree with you 
lots, aren’t you ? ” 

Sam laughed his big laugh. “ Any- 
one could loaf in Poortown, but 
Rosevale’s no place for a slouch. I 
shouldn’t wonder if next year I got 
as far as a vegetable garden.” 

Polly laughed up at him. “ I’m 
glad you aren’t Shiftless Sam any 
more ; I like you better when you’re 
just nice, big, kind Sam.” 


8 2 Polly’s Garden 

Sam went o£F to tinker the lawn- 
mower, and Sandy and Polly, with the 
children at their heels, went across to 
attack the Terry path. They finished 
that, but left Miss Smith’s and the 
McLeod’s till the next day. 

Polly dragged her father and mother 
out to see the path of Rose Hedge, but 
she would not allow them to step on 
it. 

“It’s fine, Polly,” said her mother. 
« The yard is getting ahead of the 
house. You’ll have to coax your father 
to fasten up the blind that’s loose and 
mend the porch step.” 

Polly coaxed, and her father, with 
his short laugh, said, “ Bring the hammer, 
then. And I suppose it means I’ve 
got to go over every house in the 
neighborhood.” 


Saunders Works a Miracle 83' 

“ All except Mr. Huggins’,” sighed 
Polly. « He won’t do anything till 
I make the desert blossom.” 

By the time that Mr. Greenwood’s 
hammer had strengthened all the weak 
places in the Rosevale houses — ^ except 
Mr. Huggins’ — and Sam had run his 
lawn-mower over all the lawns — ex- 
cept Mr. Huggins’ — and Sandy and 
Polly had cut the edges of all the 
paths — except Mr. Huggins’ — the 
seeds in the flower beds began to stick 
little green heads above the earth. It 
was a good thing that it was vacation 
time, for Polly surely would have 
missed a good many words the day she 
saw her seeds come up. 

« I’m so glad I live in Rosevale,” 
thought Polly, down on her knees in 
Miss Smith’s flower bed, pulling out 


84 


Polly’s Garden 

the weeds from the cool, damp earth. 
“ If only I could make Rose Hedge a 
garden in a desert, but now even the 
roses have stopped blossoming.” 

Polly sat back on her heels and 
thought. “ There isn’t a thing but 
about ten marigold seeds, and it 
doesn’t seem worth while to plant 
them. I wish we had miracles nowa- 
days and that I’d plant ten marigolds 
and have them come up a whole 
garden. Anyhow, they’re only wast- 
ing in the paper. I might as well 
plant them.” 

She borrowed Miss Smith’s trowel 
and dug a hole in the center of each 
side of the dooryard. In each hole 
she put five seeds. “ Do your best,” 
she whispered, covering them up and 
giving them a loving pat. “If you 


Saunders Works a Miracle 85 

could make the desert blossom, Rose- 
vale would be perfect.” 

Just then Sandy slammed the gate. 

« Polly ! ” he called in excitement, 
“ Mr. Martin’s here and he’s invited 
you to spend all day to-morrow at his 
house. I’m going to ask your mother 
if you can go.” 

« Are you coming ? ” asked Polly. 

« I can’t,” answered Sandy. 

He ran into the house and came out 
beaming. « All right, you can. He’s 
going to send his car for you at eight. 
Come on over and tell him, Polly.” 

“ Well, little Polly of Rose Hedge, 
Rosevale,” Mr. Martin said, « you’ve 
done wonders in the place that you and 
I founded ; you’re way ahead of me.” 

« It’s all nice but Mr. Huggins’ 
place,” sighed Polly. “ He won’t do 


86 


Polly’s Garden 

anything till our dooryard turns into a 
garden in the desert. He will then, 
though, for he’s promised.” 

Mr. Martin laughed. “ Sandy was 
telling me about Mr. Huggins. We’ll 
have to get him into the procession 
somehow, you and I and Sandy. Be 
ready at eight.” 

Polly was ready the next morning, 
in her white frock and best hair- 
ribbons, long before eight o’clock, 
when Mr. Martin came and carried 
her off. 

What a wonderful day it was ! The 
Martin place was fairyland. Mr, Mar- 
tin was away all day, and Polly could 
not find Saunders anywhere, but Mrs. 
Martin was on hand for the fairy 
queen, and Harvey and Mabel for the 
little prince and princess. Polly’s 


Saunders Works a Miracle 87 

dimples danced all day, and so did her 
brown curls and her feet. 

At half-past four the big car came 
to the door again, gathered in Mrs. 
Martin and the three children, and 
rolled away down the hill toward 
Rosevale. As they came down the 
rough road to the blacksmith shop, 
Mrs. Martin was telling a story and 
Polly was listening with all her ears 
and eyes. She did not take her eyes 
from Mrs. Martin’s face till the car 
stopped at Rose Hedge. 

Mr. Martin was waiting there and 
came forward to open the car door. 
Polly turned to smile at him, and then 
sat stock still, her breath coming fast. 

« Oh ! Oh ! ” she whispered to her- 
self. “ It’s the miracle ! It’s hap- 
pened! ” 


CHAPTER X 


Mr. Huggins Keeps His Word 

Polly had gone away at eight o’clock 
from a dull little dooryard. She came 
back at five to find it turned into the 
garden she and Sandy had planned. 
Every path and every bed lay just as 
they had drawn it on paper. The 
paths were raked, the grass borders 
were green, and the beds themselves 
filled with plants, some in blossom and 
some waiting to bloom a little later. 

Sandy was standing close to Mr. 
Martin. Inside the garden were Saun- 
ders — spade still in hand; Farmer 
Allen, with his big smile ; Mr. and 

Mrs. Greenwood ; Miss Smith ; Mrs. 

88 


Mr. Huggins Keeps His Word 89 

McLeod, — with the baby as wide 
awake as were Jessie and Angus and 
Jamie; Sam; and Mrs. Terry in her 
own rocking-chair. 

“ It was Mr. Martin who had the 
garden plan,” whispered Sandy. « He 
told me yesterday what he was going 
to do. My, but we’ve put in a day ! ” 
Polly stood speechless, with parted 
lips. Her eyes went past the rose 
hedge and gay garden to the house 
beyond. Some one had given the 

blinds a new coat of green paint, and 
touched up with white the trimmings 
of the little gray house. It looked 
dressed for a party. 

Every one looked dressed for a party 
— from the McLeod baby to old Mrs. 
Terry. There were no aprons or 
shirt sleeves to be seen. On the porch 


90 


Polly’s Garden 

was a table with a spick and span 
cloth and plates and spoons. It was 
a party. 

« Do you like it, Polly ? ” asked 
Mr. Martin smiling. “ Does it follow 
the plan ? ” 

“ I couldn’t tell how beautiful it 
would be ! ” breathed Polly. « Who 
could do such a miracle ? ” 

« It was Saunders. I borrowed your 
garden plan the other day to see if he 
could work it out for you this fall, for 
I thought it was time I did my share 
for the place I had helped to found. 
But when Sandy told me yesterday 
that this garden had no flowers because 
the seeds had all gone to your friends, 
and that as soon as this garden 
bloomed, Mr. Huggins had promised 
to polish up his end of the street and 


Mr. Huggins Keeps His Word 91 

make a perfect Rosevale — then I 
thought we’d better get right to work. 
Saunders is a good man for coaxing 
flowers. Do you want to come and 
tell him how you like your garden ? ” 

When Polly’s dancing dimples 
thanked Saunders, he felt that all his 
hard work was worth while. Then 
Mrs. Greenwood went out to the car 
to ask Mrs. Martin to come in, and 
Polly, almost too happy to speak, ran 
from one friend to another, to give 
them welcome until Sandy pulled her 
away. 

« What do you think, Polly ? ” he 
said, “ Mrs. Martin’s got mother lots 
of people to sew for, so she can stay 
home all the time, and I’m to go every 
day to Mr. Martin’s and learn the gar- 
dening under Mr. Saunders. He’s a 


92 


Polly’s Garden 

great man at flowers, is Mr. Saunders. 
Mr. Martin said he could most make a 
thistle grow roses. My, but we’ve put 
in a day. Everybody took a hand and 
didn’t even knock off" for noon hour. 
Mr. Martin and Mr. Saunders and Sam 
and me dug and planted as tight as we 
could go, while your father painted. 
Then Mrs. Terry said we must have a 
party. Mr. Allen brought some ice, 
my mother gave the cream, and your 
mother made ice cream, and Mrs. 
Terry turned the crank, and Miss Smith 
made cake. I tell you, it’s some 
party.” 

« A party and a miracle and the 
garden in the wilderness ! ” said Polly. 
“ Now Mr. Huggins will have to keep 
his word. Oh, Sandy, look ! ” 

Sandy looked across the street. Mr. 


Mr. Huggins Keeps His Word 93 

Huggins had sharpened his scythe and 
was giving it its first swing across his 
ragged grass. 

“ He’s keeping his word, sure 
enough,” agreed Sandy. 

“ Now it will all be Rosevale,” ex- 
claimed Polly. “ Sandy, I’m going to 
make Mr. Huggins come to the party.” 

“ He won’t come,” said Sandy. 

But Polly coaxed him. He said he 
wouldn’t come and couldn’t come, but 
by and by he put on his coat and did 
come. He sat beside Miss Smith, too, 
and ate her cake and talked to her 
about hollyhocks, when he hadn’t 
spoken to her for two years. 

It was a gay party, and no mistake. 
There was ice cream enough for every 
one to have two helpings, and more 
cake than anyone could eat. And 


94 Polly’s Garden 

everybody talked and laughed and 
told jokes. 

Polly, when she had finished her 
ice cream, and had laughed at all the 
jokes, went once more by herself 
through the paths of her garden, stop- 
ping to get acquainted with each 
flower. She ended in a far corner 
where nobody was. Mr. Martin, who 
had watched her go, came over to say 
good-bye. 

“ Have we founded quite a nice 
place, little Polly ? ” he asked. 

“ It’s the wonderfulest place ! ” she 
answered. “ Only a little while ago it 
was Poortown, and father never talked, 
and mother was always tired, and Mrs. 
McLeod was tired, and Mr. Huggins 
was cross, and Sam didn’t like to work, 
and Miss Smith hated lending things. 










\iL'.',:-;'’miit 


\tJit}Hi}U‘ 


immUi 


'lUfx 


W<':^ 


'rK!- 






t' ' 'V '• 


f-'!IOfAii^- 

f « ■ ' •> 










.Af'V '••/•* 
}Q' ' ‘.'//t', 

WM 


ftkM'i 


Hlil 0 }-. 

'j-mm 


" ''rtfsir. 
fnjy«^ 




itlSSyh 






“ It was love that did it ; 


it’s always love that works miracles.” 










95 


Mr. Huggins Keeps His Word 

and Mrs. Terry couldn’t cross the sill. 
Now it’s Rosevale, and we’re all so 
happy ! I know what made it,” she 
ended shyly, « it was a miracle.” 

Mr. Martin picked her up in his 
arms just as if she had been his own 
little girl. 

“Yes, little Polly,” he said, “it was 
a miracle, worked by a little girl who 
saw beautiful things in her heart, and 
loved them enough to make them 
real.” 

“You did it,” she protested, “and 
father and Sam and all of them.” 

Mr. Martin laughed as he put her 
on her own feet again. “ Let’s say it 
was love that did it ; it’s always love 
that works miracles. You’ve just loved 
Rosevale into being, little Polly of 
Rose Hedge, Rosevale.” 


96 


Polly’s Garden 

Polly dropped on her knees before 
a purple pansy plant and smiled up at 
Mr. Martin. “Anyhow,” she said, “we 
did make a garden in the wilderness, 
didn’t we ? ” 


Printed in the United States of America. 


following pages contain advertisements of a 
few of the Macmillan books on kindred subjects. 



Everyday Clcissics 

By FRANKLIN T. BAKER, Professor of English in Teachers 
College and Supervisor of English in Horace Mann School ; 
and ASHLEY H. THORNDIKE, Professor of English, 
Columbia University. Authors of “ Everyday English.” 


Third Reader ^ .48 

Fourth Reader 56 

Fifth Reader 60 

Sixth Reader 60 


The Teaching of Reading — A Manual for Teachers . .50 

Everyday Classics aims to solve the problem of teaching reading 
in grades three to six. This series offers a basal course for 
children who have mastered the symbols of reading. 

Everyday Classics teach the child to read orally with expression 
or silently and rapidly without inner speech. 

Everyday Classics enable children to get the thought accurately 
and speedily from the printed page and to give it fitting ex- 
pression. 

Everyday Classics make children familiar with literature that 
is known to all people who know books, and that is simple 
enough for children grade by grade to understand and enjoy. 

Everyday Classics lead children to read those things that are 
worth while and to read for the pure love of reading. 

Everyday Classics distinguish the material for the teacher from 
material for the pupil. The readers are books for children. 
There is a Manual for the teacher. 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 


BOSTON 

CHICAGO 


NEW YORK 
SAN FRANCISCO 


ATLANTA 

DALLAS 


Everychild’s Series 

Each volume illustrated. $ 0 . 40 X 

The Everychild' s Series is a library of supplementary 
reading. The purpose of this sefries is to broaden the 
child’s growing interest in geography, history, nature study, 
biography, and the like, and to encourage him to seek for 
himself entertainment and information in the broader field 
of life and literature. 

Myth and Legend 

Anderson : Stories of the Golden Age. Grade IV-VI. 

Bemlster : Indian Legends. Grade IV-VI. 

Froelicher : Swiss Stories and Legends. Grade IV-VI. 

Fairy Tale and Fable 

Large: Old Stories for Young Readers. Grade II-IV. 

Oswell: A Fairy Book. Grade II-IV. 

Fiction and Folk ^ore 

Fletcher: Old Settler Tales. Grade III-VI. 

Hallock: In Those Days. Grade IV-VI. 

Hopkins : The Knight of the Lion. Grade IV-VII, 

Oswell: Stories Grandmother Told. Grade III-V. 

Oswell: Old Time Tales. Grade III-V. 

Stockton : Stories of the Spanish Main. Grade VI- VIII. 

Young : When We Were Wee. Grade III-VI. 

History and Biography 

Alshouse: Heroes of the Nation. Grades IV-VI. 

Calhoun: The Book of Brave Adventures. Grades IV-VII. 

Calhoun: When Great Folks Were Little Folks. Grades IV-VII. 

Dickson: Camp and Trail in Early American History. Grades IV-VI. 

Dickson : Pioneers and Patriots. Grades IV-VI. 

Farmer : Boy and Girl Heroes. Grades IV-VI. 

MacElroy : Work and Play in Colonial Days. Grades IV-VI. 

Reynolds : The Gold Rush. Grades V-VII. 

Reynolds : The Vanishing F rontier. Grades V-VII. 

Underwood : Heroes of Conquest and Empire. Grades IV-VII. 

Geography and Commerce 

James : The Building of Cities. Grades IV-VIII. 

Werthner : How Man Makes Markets. Grades V-VIII. 

Nature Study and Science 

Gardner : Nature Stories. Grades I-III. 

Large: A Visit to the Farm. Grades III-V. 

Reynolds : How Man Conquered Nature. Grades IV-VI. 

Music and Drama 

Bender: Great Opera Stories. Grades IV-VI. 

Bird & Starling : Historical Plays for Children. Grades IV-VI. 

Dunn: What Shall We Play. Grades IIT-V. 

Warner : Nonsense Dialogues. Grades I-III. 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 


CHICAGO 

BOSTON 


NEW YORK 
SAN FRANCISCO 


ATLANTA 

DALLAS 


True Stories of Great Americans 


New Illustrated Biographies of Our National Heroes Written for 

Boys and Girls 

Cloth, i2mo, illustrated, each 50 cents 

This important new series of brief and vivid biographies for boys and 
girls gives an intimate picture of the lives of our greatest national heroes. 
They tell the most striking incidents of our history in the personal terms 
of interest to children, and establish in their hearts and imaginations char- 
acters great in ideals, achievements, and patriotism, — true and worthy 
heroes to follow. 

In each instance the author has been chosen either because he is particu- 
larly interested in the subject of the biography or is connected with him bj/ 
blood ties, and possessed, therefore, of valuable facts. 


DANIEL BOONE 

By Lucille Gulliver 
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS 
By Mildred Stapley 
DAVY CROCKETT 

By William C. Sprague 
GEORGE ARMSTRONG CUSTER 
By F. S. Dellenbaugh . 
THOMAS A. EDISON 

By Franklin Rolt-Wheeler 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 
By E. Lawrence Dudley 

ROBERT FULTON 

By Alice C. Sutcliffe 

ULYSSES S. GRANT 
By Lovell Coombs 
NATHAN HALE 

By Jean Christie Root 


SAM HOUSTON 

By George L. Bryan 
JOHN PAUL JONES 
By L. Frank Tooker 
LAFAYETTE 

By Martha Foote Crowe 
LA SALLE 

By Louise S. Hasbrouck 
ROBERT E. LEE 

By Bradley Gilman 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 

By Daniel E. Wheeler 
WILLIAM PENN 

By Rupert S. Holland 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 
By Rossiter Johnson 
GEORGE WASHINGTON 
By W. H. RmEiNG 


THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 


CHICAGO 

BOSTON 


SAN FRANCISCO 
NEW YORK 


ATLANTA 

DALLAS 


Macmillan’s Pocket American and 
English Classics 

Cloth, Uniform in Size and Binding. 25 cents each 

A PARTIAL LIST FOR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS 
Arabian Nights 

Andersen : Danish Fairy Tales and Legends 

Baker : Out of the Northland 

Carroll : Alice in Wonderland 

Church : Story of the Iliad 

Church : Story of the Odyssey 

Defoe : The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe 

Dickens : Christmas Carol and the Cricket on the Hearth. 

Epoch-Making Papers in United States History 

Gray : Elegy and Other Poems, with Cowper’s John Gilpin 

Grimm and Grimm : Fairy Tales 

Hawthorne : Grandfather’s Chair 

Hawthorne: Tanglewood Tales 

Hawthorne: Twice Told Tales 

Hawthorne : Wonder Book 

Hughes : Tom Brown’s School Days 

Keary : The Heroes of Asgard 

Kingsley : The Heroes, or Greek Fairy Tales 

Lamb : Tales from Shakespeare 

Longfellow : Courtship of Miles Standish and Minor Poems 

Longfellow: Evangeline 

Longfellow : The Song of Hiawatha 

Scott: The Talisman 

Swift : Gulliver’s Travels 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

CHICAGO NEW YORK ATLANTA 

BOSTON SAN FRANCISCO DALLAS 



/ 


I 





V 





